“It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top.”
—Virginia Woolf

I do not remember the last time I woke up and remembered a dream. I rarely dream when I sleep, and, if I do, I rarely remember them. Most of my dreaming happens while I am awake.

Eyes wide opened, my mind dwells on the most mundane things (oh I wish I could just snap my finger and get to the laundry, wash and dry, fold and return home right to where I am right now and continue working. snap.), to the outright surreal: Sound of the Music, overpowering romantic dreams, like being able to open my mouth, take a deep breathe and sing my heart out, in perfect tune, pulling out Janis Joplin meets Edith Piaf meets La Lupe meets Elis Regina meets 130 pound, 5’5 (Friday-Sundays), good-intentioned (I want to believe), simple me. Wouldn’t that be quite the American-French-Afro-Cuban, Brazilian, Puerto Rican combo? Well, there are things I will never be able to accomplish in this lifetime. I am fine with it.

Lately, I think a lot about time, age, childhood, my family and moments that marked my life. If there is such a thing as midlife crisis at the age of 31, I think I am having one. It’s not just the downfall of the economy, a flopping, never-ending war, a student loan hunting me down and probably the rest of my family, news of police brutality with footage taken right in front of my Brooklyn apartment, epidemics like the swine flu, and most recently, teenage kidnappings, suicides and then again, IT IS just those things. We are living in tough times. I know history tends to repeat itself but Paul Simon, please remind me again:

“Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?
Our nation turns its lonely eyes to you.
What’s that you say, Mrs. Robinson?
Joltin’ Joe has left and gone away.”

On the one hand, I live as if I were dancing to Dominican merengue sensation Juan Luis Guerra & 440 tunes while Alice in Wonderland’s white rabbit is standing right next to me shouting “Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!” On the other hand, hearing the voice of John Lennon singing All You Need Is Love, Michael Jackson dancing to Bad or Smooth Criminal, or even better, John Coltrane playing A Love Supreme while Cassandra Wilson tunes to Cindy Lauper’s hit song True Colors. Right. If only we could all get paid for loving, or maybe not get paid, but what if we all loved the concept of having to pay for food, shelter and health for everyone?

Every one of us lives with truths. Some are easier to share than others. These truths mark our lives many times in silence. Yet, in everything we do, these truths are revealed in our dreams, in our lives. An artist brings these two together through music, painting, images, poetry and literature to create a sense of belonging, understanding and acceptance of these truths.

I just wish… some days I just wonder whether, if we were not bound by the limits of fantasy, we could snap our fingers and make the messages in art a reality.

The artists who contributed to this issue have the inner strength to share truth with us. I am grateful and inspired by their courage, and yours.